


Past the Hatred

by TheDoctorIsIcecube



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Asexual Character, Chess, Cute gays, Dorian is a Good Friend, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9792440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorIsIcecube/pseuds/TheDoctorIsIcecube
Summary: Ethor Trevelyan has spent most of his life living in abject fear of Templars. They took him from his home, imprisoned him, and then when he and his people objected, they tried to slaughter him.He supposed it was just a cruel twist of fate when events landed him at the head of an organisation with heavy Templar links and leadership, and it took time, but slowly he found something good in all the chaos.





	1. Hostility

Ethor knew that, somewhere along the line, he had fucked up. He’d cursed the Maker in front of too many Templars, maybe, or he’d been ungrateful, or some other sin that the Chantry had decided was a sin before he was born. He couldn’t think of anything specific, though, which was why he really couldn’t understand what he’d done to deserve Fade magic eating his hand, scary women blaming him for the end of the world, or even an encounter with far too many Templars for his heart to stand. He thought he’d met enough before today, and now there was another one. There were always more of them. This one, though, seemed a little different, but he couldn’t quite fathom why, and he was gone before he had said more than a few words to him.

All he could do was watch, slightly puzzled, as this Commander retreated, helping another soldier move back towards the camp. Ethor moved on, glancing back at him every few steps. He wasn’t staring, exactly, just...looking, out of curiosity. Definitely not looking at his profile. But he couldn’t look for too long, because there was a temple to visit and a rift to seal.

-

It wasn’t until much later, after battling demons and saving the world (supposedly) and blacking out and then waking up to be told he was the Herald of Andraste, that he realised these people were asking him to stay in the hands of his natural enemies just so he could sort things out. He was fine with almost everyone, though Leliana was very scary, but he did not want to work with Templars. It just wasn’t fair to ask that of him when he’d spent his life being persecuted by them. He could barely walk past a Templar without feeling anger stirring inside of him. And talking to any of them, especially Commander Cullen, was a nightmare. He refused to hide that he was a mage and he refused to be apologetic about his magic.

Yet, apparently, it was down to him to talk to Cullen about the benefits of recruiting even more Templars into the Inquisition. Because apparently that was an option he was meant to consider when there was still the option of reliable allies.

“Commander, I hope you’re not too busy to talk,” he said, approaching the man where he was giving directions to recruits. He wouldn’t mind if he was too busy to talk, because that would mean he could go off and do something else.

Cullen looked back at him, then shouted out a couple more directions and turned away from the group of recruits. “Not at all. Is there...anything I can do for you, Herald?” He smiled, looking almost a little nervous. Ethor resisted the urge to frown. The nerves were probably because of the mage thing. He would have to get used to this if they were ever going to work together.

“Cassandra asked me to consider the possibility of recruiting Templars to our cause,” he said, making sure the Commander could hear exactly how distasteful he found that idea. “I thought you would have some ideas, or at least an opinion.”

“I am no longer a Templar,” Cullen said, and Ethor wished for a moment that he hadn’t mentioned it. A Templar leaving the Order was ludicrous, they were so dedicated. That was far too much of a shock for one day.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “But is it possible that you still have an opinion on the matter? Cassandra was quite insistent that I consider it thoroughly…” It was the last thing he wanted to do, but at least this way he would be able to say that he had considered it if she went asking around. 

“We already have some Templar recruits, and they are invaluable in training our volunteers,” he said. “They are all trained soldiers, and well trained at that, but I know that members of our group are...uncomfortable around them. There is also the matter of getting lyrium for them, but that is something Josephine is already working on.”

“Right. So, you would say that we don’t need any more?” The fewer lyrium-fueled mage-hating people around, the better. “Thank you for your opinion, Commander Cullen. You’ve been very helpful.” He left as quickly as he could, knowing that it wasn’t what Cullen had said and that was not the opinion he was trying to give. But it was the interpretation that he wanted to get from the exchange. Lyrium was expensive and securing it would involve complicated deals with a criminal organisation or the Chantry, and Josephine had enough on her hands at the moment.

-

“I still don’t think this was a good idea, Herald.” Cullen shrugged his shoulders, taking a step back. Ethor folded his arms. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard complaints about recruiting the mage rebellion, and there was no way it was going to be the last time.

“I’m sorry,” he said firmly, “but my decision is final. The mages will be useful to our cause, and I trust them. In return, they trust me, and I doubt I would be able to say the same about the Templars.”

“Our recruits, the ones who aren’t mages, are understandably rather worried about the nature of our allegiance with the rebellion,” Cullen said. “Many of them have worked in Circles and far more have seen the horrors magic can cause when it goes unwatched.”

“Are we going to have a problem, Commander?” Ethor asked. He would not stand for such a veiled insult as that. Ex-Templar or not, he was the same as all the others. Fearful of magic, unable to see past the words of the Chantry.

“I should hope not. I merely feel that it’s important that you’re considering the opinions of everyone in this army, Herald. Not too long ago you seemed very keen on my thoughts on how we should do things. I just thought that you might appreciate a little more advice.” 

He tried to take a quiet deep breath. It wouldn’t do him any good to get angry about these sorts of things. He wanted to make a difference to the opinion of the people in regards to magic, and being an angry man who shouted at Templars who had concerns wouldn’t do him any good. He’d already spent a while doing that before the Conclave. “I very much appreciate your advice, Commander, and it is noted that some people are worried. As leader of the Inquisition’s forces, you should discuss the matter with Fiona and see if there is anything that can be done.”

“I can see that you are not going to be convinced that this is a bad idea.” Cullen paused, looking like he was trying just as hard as Ethor was not to lose his cool. “As you made the decision, it would look bad if we went back on our word, so I must respect your wishes. I’ll speak to Fiona, although I very much doubt that she will be able to help.”

“Thank you for understanding,” he said. He didn’t think Cullen had understood, of course, but he was happy to say it. “If it doesn’t work out, you can bring the details to me and we can talk about it.” He didn’t mind mediating the position of the mages in the Inquisition, he just wanted it all to work out. “After all, we want the same thing from this, and that is the safety of Thedas.”

“I know. I’ll go and take your advice now, Herald.” Cullen said no more, ending their conversation with a curt nod before turning on his heel and heading off. Ethor sighed. He hoped that all of the consternation over so many mages being here would blow over soon. There were bigger problems at hand.

“Did you shove your staff up his arse or did I?” Ethor jumped as Dorian’s voice sounded behind him. “I think I would remember a night like that, but I did get rather drunk after yesterday’s escapades.”

“Dorian! That’s not funny.” The smile forming on his face suggested otherwise, though. It was nice to have someone around here that he could joke with. “He’s just frustrated because I refuse to send all these mages back to Redcliffe. I’m not going to do it. They’re useful to our cause, and loyal.”

“You don’t need to pretend with me, oh mighty lord Herald. Our Commander probably doesn’t like to think about how you have magic just like all of them. I am sympathetic to their cause too, but clearly others aren’t.” Ethor was pretty sure that everyone in the Inquisition already knew he was sympathetic to the abolition of the Circles, but Dorian was right. He did try to pretend a little.

“Actually, Dorian, it’s Lord Trevelyan to my friends,” he said, shooting him a grin. 

“Well then, Lord Trevelyan, I beg your forgiveness. Now, why don’t you come take a break from work? I’m sure I can find some way for the two of us to pass the time together.” Dorian rested a hand on his shoulder, starting to steer him away. 

“I have a lot of work to do, actually,” he said, but he knew he could avoid it for another couple of hours. The others were aware of, even though they could not fully understand, what he had witnessed the day before. Cassandra had given him the day off because of that.  
“Your work can wait a little. I need an opponent for my chess game.” Ethor opened his mouth to protest, trying to argue that he still had work to do, and found himself being shushed almost immediately. “No, you have the day off and I haven’t been able to find a chess set since I left Minrathous. I haven’t even seen you drunk yet, so come on.”

“Dorian, it’s the middle of the day. You are not getting me drunk now.” Ethor let himself be led away nonetheless, still smiling. He could take the afternoon off to relax.


	2. Snowdrift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping Haven, Ethor has a lot to think about after his close brush with death.

Even with a thick travelling cloak and gloves, the cold mountain air still felt like it was sapping all of the strength from Ethor’s bones. He had spent the first part of the journey not talking to anyone, but then Dorian had fallen into step next to him and it was very hard not to talk to the other mage. It certainly passed the time a lot faster.

"I think my balls are freezing off," Dorian said, and that was the first thing anyone had said to him for hours. Dorian really did provide him with high quality conversation. "It's so bleeding cold."

"I've established that, yes. My internal monologue for the past few hours has just been the rational part of my brain screaming at me to ask why I decided this was a good idea." Ethor shoved his gloved hands deeper into his pockets, heaving a long sigh that turned into cold water vapour in front of his face.

"I don't think the Archdemon gave us much of a choice, honestly," Dorian said, and he sounded cheerful enough, but Ethor knew how he was really feeling. Facing off against that, fury blazing in its eyes, and then Corypheus, and knowing that he would probably die that night...it was terrible, and he still hadn't managed to process it properly. He didn't respond for a few moments, and Dorian looked askance at him. "Relax, Ethor. It was terrible, and it's over now. If we don't try and joke about it a little, we'll never stop being sad." He reached out and patted him on the shoulder.

"I know," he said, managing a smile. He did know, but there was something...when he'd been talking to Commander Cullen, discussing how to get the people out of Haven and how to keep the army out of their way as they escaped. The prospect of crushing them all under an avalanche, the discussion of who should do it. The whole time, Ethor's eyes had been on Cullen and he had looked devastated.

"If you know, why are you still frowning like that? I'd offer you a drink, but I think whatever alcohol I may have been carrying would be completely frozen. Cheer up. When we get to this Skyhold place, I'll get you a drink. No...when I get there, I'm going to light a fire. I'll get you a drink after that."

"Thanks," he said. Knowing Dorian, he'd actually do that. The man was a shamelessly heavy drinker, through and through, and every excuse he had to drink, he took it. He had the money to back it up, but not quite the constitution of Iron Bull or Varric. "I think I'll sleep for a week when we get there."

"But what would our band of merry men- and women- do without their esteemed Herald for a week? I for one would be lost without you..." Dorian placed a hand over his heart, sighing dramatically. "Anyway...you still haven't told me why you look so glum. What's on your mind?"

Ethor shrugged. "Archdemon, narrow brush with death once again, and Corypheus. I was never really affected by the Blight, but many of the people in Haven were and they were terrified at the prospect of another so soon. It's getting me down."

"Ah. You worry so much about other people's troubles. I'd say I wished I was as selfless as you, but it seems awfully stressful." Dorian smiled, and Ethor made a vague attempt to smile back. "Did you see the Commander? Those big sad puppy-dog eyes after all the fighting was over were adorable."

"Dorian!" He realised too late that he had perhaps reacted a little too strongly to the normal teasing they put the Commander through behind his back. "That's, well, I don't know, I-" Dorian just started laughing at him. "Stop! I'll tell him you said that."

"You'll tell him mean old Dorian said he had puppy-dog eyes? I'm sure he'll be horribly offended." Dorian reached up to wipe a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. "Oh, Ethor. You are hopeless. He's a handsome man, you needn't feel ashamed for liking him."

"I don't! He's not- don't you dare, Dorian." He did find Cullen very attractive, but he would never be able to admit that to anyone except himself. "He doesn't even like me, our opinions are too different."

"I won't say anything. I quite agree with you, he's very attractive, just not quite my type. If he was, I'd be fighting you for him, and I'd win. As it is, I'm quite happy to let you take him. Or perhaps you'd rather let him take you; I don't know your preferences in the bedroom."

"Dorian, this is not the time-" he spluttered, but this was apparently just bait, and Dorian continued to laugh at him.

"What time is better than this? You're least likely to overheat and faint from embarrassment in this chill. What is it? His rugged, southern charm?"

"If you keep this up, I'm going to push you into a snowdrift." Ethor pulled the hood of his cloak up so that Dorian couldn't see his face. His plan was immediately thwarted by a strong gust of wind that blew his hood right back down, which just sent the other mage into peals of laughter again.

"Or is it his strong, commanding personality? A leader as you are, I wouldn't imagine you'd be into that kind of thing." Dorian was struggling to keep his voice level now through all the laughter. Ethor was beginning to wish the wind was a little cooler on his face.

"What I'm into or not is none of your business," he said, trying to sound firm and instead coming across like a petulant teenager. Perhaps he really should make good on his promise to push Dorian into a snowdrift.

"Ah, the Herald of Andraste, a truly skilled orator, unparalleled by any other across Thedas," Dorian laughed again, and it was starting to sound rather a lot like giggling. Getting him covered in snow was really becoming a very attractive idea.

"I'm going to push you into the snow, Dorian. Just you wait." Grown men they may be, but there was only so much teasing that Ethor could stand. Maybe a good coating of snow would finally ruffle Dorian's perfect hair.

"But then I'll be wet and even colder and my hair would be ruined," he protested. Looking down the rather sharp incline, Ethor knew that he really shouldn't push Dorian. He'd most likely fall into someone else and if that person was unsteady, they could start a chain of people falling down and it would be his fault.

"What a disaster that would be," Ethor said dryly. "What does it matter if your hair gets a little wet? Is there someone you're trying to look pretty for?" Dorian wasn't the only one who could be a tease.

"I'm always on the lookout for a good time," Dorian said, attempting a wink, but it just looked silly because a piece of snow landed in his eye. "Especially with all these soldier types around who don't care about breeding and Magisterial posts."

"I'm not convinced that you think about anything besides sex most of the time." Ethor glanced behind them to where the rest of the group was traipsing through the snow, trying not to linger for too long on Cullen even though his nose had gone quite cutely red in the cold. "I think I caught the Iron Bull watching you earlier. Might have been flirtatious, or it might just have been a glare..."

"We have a little of a love hate relationship," Dorian said, informing him of this as if he hadn't witnessed their lengthy arguments in the field. "Though there is far more hate than love and when I say love I mean a grudging acceptance of our abilities to kill each other."

"Romance is in the air, then..." Ethor laughed, cutting off into a cough as a stray snowflake flew into his mouth. "Maker, I wish this journey wasn't so long. Skyhold better not get destroyed too, because there's no way I'm hiking halfway across the country again."

"I believe this is actually just a mountain range," Dorian said with a smile, "and hiking across Ferelden or Orlais would be a significantly more difficult as it would require more time." If it hadn't been so cold, Ethor would have stuck his tongue out at Dorian for being such a know it all.

"Whatever you say. Smartass." Ethor nudged Dorian in the ribs, barely hard enough to even be felt, but of course the other mage felt it necessary to clap his hands to his side and gasp as if he had been mortally wounded.

"I am dying!" Dorian exclaimed. "My poor, weakened body fading away under your touch. Murder, this is murder I tell you, I am to be murdered by Andraste's chosen. I will only be remembered as a spy at your side, sending secrets home to that most evil Imperium in the north. For this is the only way you can justify my murder, oh cruel one!"

"Did I call you a smartass? I take it back, Dorian, you're just an ass." Ethor was smiling despite his words, amused by Dorian's dramatics.

"I'm deeply wounded, both physically and emotionally," Dorian said, returning the smile. As they walked onwards, lapsing into a comfortable silence, Ethor realised he was breathless with laughter rather than exertion for once and the events of Haven were no longer weighing so heavily on his mind. Dorian always seemed to have that effect on him. He was a good friend despite his teasing (and his alarming ability to know who Ethor happened to be harbouring feelings for), and things seemed a little easier with the knowledge that he had a friend by his side.


	3. Relaxing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lunch date.

Settling into Skyhold was easier than Ethor had imagined, but it was far more challenging to settle into his new role as Inquisitor. What he did was mostly the same, bar the judging of the prisoners, but people looked at him with new respect and there was quite a lot of pressure in the title. At least he still had people around to help him, to guide his choices and take precedence in matters he didn’t know much about.

Commander Cullen was an invaluable help, being the only one, other than maybe Cassandra, who was able to command their troops. He seemed to have calmed down about the mages, which was a very good thing, because he couldn’t stand conflicts when they were standing at the war table. Ethor had known that people would get used to their presence, and now he had to try not to be too smug about being right. Honestly, there wasn’t much room for feeling smug amongst all the stress and then the thoughts brought on by Dorian’s constant teasing.

It was endless. He regretted ever admitting that maybe he liked Cullen just a little bit, because Dorian never stopped pointing out when Cullen was out training with the troops or when he was doing something attractive or when he heard the latest story about Cullen doing something sweet for one of the servants or the family members of soldiers. Ethor had begun actively trying to avoid the topic of Cullen when around his fellow mage, which was a lot easier said than done. As for actually talking to Cullen himself, well…that was done only when absolutely necessary. 

Today seemed to be one of those days when it was ‘absolutely necessary’, unfortunately. There had been an issue the night before, and Fiona had come to him to tell him that a group of Templars had harassed some of the mages when they were leaving the tavern. All the parties, she informed him, had been very drunk, but it made many of her people fearful about how the Templars really felt about them. Fiona had requested he go to Cullen directly to inform him, because she thought he would take it more seriously if he heard it from him. And so Ethor did just that, after putting it off for half the morning and refusing Dorian’s offer of a drink to help him be braver.

He knocked on Cullen’s office door, waiting for the call of ‘enter’ before he opened it. Cullen looked surprised to see him, and perhaps there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks- Ethor figured that he must be imagining that, though.

“Inquisitor. Was there anything you wanted from me?” He asked. Maybe he’d already heard about the problems from the night before and he was embarrassed that his men had acted in such a way (wistful thinking; Ethor knew that the Commander would put his faith in his men over the mages any day).

“I received a report from Enchantress Fiona this morning,” he said, and the surprise in Cullen’s expression was replaced by careful neutrality. “She says that some of her people were harassed last night by some of your men.”

“Really? Did she give you any descriptions of who?” Cullen sighed. “I can have a word with them, but they’re not going to get any less distrustful of mages just because I tell them to. You know that.” 

Ethor did know that, but that still didn’t make it alright. “I’d appreciate if if you spoke to them. I didn’t get any clear descriptions- everyone involved was drunk. I’m surprised they even remembered it happening.” 

“That doesn’t narrow it down at all with who was involved,” Cullen said with a short chuckle. “I’ll give everyone a reminder about proper conduct and then I expect I can toss in a comment about your own magic. The people who were involved will know.”

“Thank you,” he said, though he knew it wouldn’t do anything and their soldiers wouldn’t trust magic any more. Trust came with time, he acknowledged that, he just hoped to make the time needed for that trust become less. 

“Not a problem, Inquisitor.” Cullen smiled, and then looked back at his desk, which was currently piled high with paperwork. “I suppose I should get back to this, now…” He sounded rather reluctant, which didn’t surprise Ethor in the slightest. Any reasonable person would balk at that amount of reports to check. 

“How long have you been working?” Ethor asked. Leliana always told him that Cullen worked far too hard for far too long, so now was his chance. He’d win the good grace of their spymaster if he managed to get the Commander to take a short break.

Cullen glanced out of the window. “Since just before dawn,” he said. “But I’ve only been sat here an hour or so, I was training the soldiers before that.” Ethor didn’t understand why soldiers had to train before it was even light outside, especially seeing as most of them were hung over every few days, but it had worked so far and he wasn’t going to question it.

“You’ve been working all morning with no break, then?” Ethor folded his arms. Cullen nodded, looking a little sheepish. “Well. I- Why don’t you come have lunch with me?” Maker, he hoped that didn’t sound like a date. He didn’t want to scare Cullen with something like that.

“With you? I-” Cullen was blushing. A bad move, then, because even though his blushing was cute he didn’t want him to be embarrassed. “Maybe a little later? I should really get a few of these papers sorted out first, half of the people writing these reports struggle with writing so I just have to power through.”

“I’ll be back in an hour then, Commander,” he said quickly, and before his face could betray his glee, he turned around and left Cullen to his reports.

Ethor found himself smiling all the way back from Cullen’s office. He only stopped when he found himself standing in the middle of a corridor and realising that he had no idea if this was a date or not. It probably wasn’t, but if it was, then to give off the impression that he wasn’t interested would be awful. It was just eating lunch together, really, and he shouldn’t be getting worked up about it, but Cullen had blushed when he suggested it. Perhaps he should go to Dorian and get a few tips on how to act. He had an hour, after all, and no doubt the other mage would be utterly thrilled to learn of this latest development in the saga of Ethor’s feelings for Cullen. 

It turned out that this was a very bad idea. Dorian was very glad to help, he always was, but he had decided that it had to be very romantic and would involve him actually telling Cullen that he was attractive. Ethor knew he couldn’t do that. He didn’t have enough time to set anything nice up in the first place, and at the moment he could barely even think about Cullen without blushing, let alone compliment him. As for the rest of Dorian’s advice, Ethor was just going to ignore it. He did not need sex tips, absolutely not. He’d said that, and Dorian had just laughed and given him an infuriatingly knowing look. He had no desire to actually have sex with Cullen yet, they were barely even friends.

Other than a very brief pep talk about keeping cool and not picking out food from between his teeth while eating (‘and don’t talk about work, whatever you do’), Ethor came away from his talk with Dorian none the wiser about how he should approach eating together. He managed to have just enough time to decide where he’d eat with the Commander, but nothing more. It was surprisingly difficult to find somewhere to eat that wouldn’t be strange but also wouldn’t be crowded.

An hour after their discussion, Ethor made his way back up to Cullen’s office, hoping that he didn’t look nervous. Going to lunch with a friend, that was all this was. Casual and normal. Nothing wrong with this. He had no reason to be nervous, and yet here he was, hesitating to knock on the Commander’s office door. He took a few seconds to work up the courage to knock, and when he did he felt bad instantly as he heard a bang and Cullen cursed from inside.

A few moments later, he realised that he should probably open the door, and he did so to see Cullen rubbing his knee. “My apologies, Inquisitor,” he said with a smile, “you startled me.”

“I should be the one apologising,” Ethor said hastily. “Is your knee alright?” He stepped forward, trying to get a closer look, but there was hardly anything to see. Nothing to see, and now he was standing uncomfortably close to Cullen with barely any excuse. With an awkward cough, he stepped back again. “Did you get more paperwork done?”

He’d already failed in his instructions from Dorian, but Cullen looked slightly more at ease as he asked the question. “Just a little,” he said. “It really is impossible to read their handwriting sometimes. At some point, Cassandra is going to start asking for them to be rewritten so she can read them too.” 

“I wish you luck when she decides on that.” Ethor laughed, feeling a little less nervous now. “Are you ready to leave? You definitely look like you need that break now.” In addition to looking tired, he now had ink stains all over one hand. It was sort of cute that he worked so hard (but he’d never tell him he thought that).

“Please,” he said. “I’m famished. I normally eat in my office, but did you have somewhere else in mind?” Ethor could definitely imagine Cullen sitting at his desk with a sandwich in one hand and a pen in the other, and he could also imagine Leliana chiding him for getting crumbs in his inkwell.

“I thought we could get something from the kitchens and take it outside. You look as though you need some fresh air.” Ethor paused for a moment. “I don’t mean that in a rude way. You’ve just been stuck inside for quite a while, I know.”

“I certainly never envisioned a job at a desk involving writing by this time back when I was sixteen,” Cullen said. “It was never what I aspired to do, but it isn’t as bad as it seems, even when I’ve been stuck at it for hours.”

“I would imagine it’s better than being a Templar…” Ethor trailed off after that, really not wanting to start another argument. “Anyway,” he said, a little louder than was necessary. “Let’s...let’s go and get some food. You must be starved.” 

Cullen didn’t say much on the way down to the kitchens, walking a little awkwardly beside Ethor and looking down at the ground every so often. His taste in sandwiches turned out to be rather similar to Ethor’s, and they ended up with the exact same thing. They took the food outside, Ethor quietly wondering to himself what he was supposed to talk about and when he was supposed to talk about it.

“I, um, I tried to find somewhere quiet, it can get a bit hectic in the tavern sometimes,” he said. “I like being with everyone, but it gets especially warm in there at about this time and Flissa is always stressed with the lunch orders.”

“I can understand that. I’ve spent a few meals in there with my men, it can be awful. You can barely hear yourself think.” Cullen winced, running a hand through his hair. Ethor tried not to stare. It was hard. “It’s a lot nicer out here…do you eat out here often?”

“As often as I can,” he said, trying to avoid frowning as he thought about how busy his duties made him sometimes. “When I’m here, I usually have to eat with dignitaries or sometimes Leliana sits me down with food for a tactics meeting.”

“Do you...don’t you eat with Do- Lord Pavus quite often?” Cullen looked a little embarrassed as he spoke, and Ethor felt a faint twinge of annoyance. He knew that Cullen didn’t like Dorian.

“Yes, he often joins me.” Ethor smiled, glancing down at the remains of his sandwich for a moment. Usually their conversations out here devolved into Dorian mercilessly teasing him about Cullen. Perhaps not the best topic of discussion whilst the man himself was standing so close by.

“It’s, ah, it’s not my place to pry, but-” Cullen cut himself off. “No, I apologise. It isn’t my place to pry and I shouldn’t ask you questions about the idle rumours the recruits spread about anyone, let alone you.”

"Commander Cullen, are you asking me if I'm dating Dorian Pavus?" Ethor grinned, biting back the urge to comment on how cute the blush currently spreading over Cullen's face was. He could tease when he wanted to- it wasn't just Dorian who had that ability.

"No! I- there are rumours going round, not just in my men, that you and Lord Pavus are...involved. People are concerned about what that looks like; many of my men still think he's a spy." This wasn't news, of course, if he hadn't been through that hell with Dorian, he would have thought it too, but he didn't really want to talk about Dorian while eating lunch with Cullen. It felt like a cruel parody of talking about Cullen when eating with Dorian.

"They're nothing more than rumours, Commander, I can assure you of that. He's a good friend of mine. We're close, but not in that way. Despite what all the touching might lead you to think." Dorian was simply a very tactile person- this knowledge had become apparent mere days into their friendship and had only gotten more apparent since then.

Ethor hoped he wasn't imagining that Cullen started to look happier when he said that. He couldn't invent feelings, he'd just torture himself. He was fairly certain that Cullen wasn't interested in his side of preferences (he probably didn't 'prefer the company of men', as Dorian so tactfully put it), so he shouldn't get his hopes up.

"That's good to know," Cullen said, and then his eyes widened. "Not that I mean- I wouldn't- I'm not against that sort of thing, I'm not- Maker, I'm sorry. Perhaps I need to get more sleep, I'm making a fool of myself today."

He laughed. "More sleep is always healthy," he suggested. "I know how people are with this kind of thing, though. Dorian makes his preferences more clear than anyone I know, you'd certainly know if we were together."

"Yes. I can only imagine that the entirety of Skyhold would know if you two-" Cullen made a vague motion with his hands, and then blushed even deeper red. "I'll stop talking now...you have my apologies, Inquisitor, I think my workload has been getting the better of me recently."

"If it really is too much for you, I'm sure we can find someone to help with your tasks," he said. He didn't want to suggest that Cullen wasn't capable, because he knew he was, but he really did seem to be tired today.

"No, no, I'll be fine. I wouldn't want to trouble anyone else with all the paperwork. I know everyone else has their own duties to attend to." Cullen's attitude to his work was simultaneously very sweet and also rather frustrating. Ethor could see the toll it was taking on him, and yet he would refuse all help.

"As long as it doesn't affect your health," he said, catching himself before he said something about Cullen being more useful healthy than overworked. It was something he heard far too many times in the Circle. 'Take the afternoon off, you'll be more useful when you're not falling asleep.' Like people were an item to be used. He couldn't stand it, and he imagined Cullen was the same.

"I'll be careful, Inquisitor. Thank you for your concern." Cullen reached out, resting a hand on his arm for a few moments. Just a friendly gesture, perhaps, but it had Ethor's heart pounding. Instantly, his mouth felt dry and he could feel a blush rising to his face. Cullen had sounded so pleased and now he had touched him and he felt just a tiny bit lightheaded. He was not prepared for something like this.

"It's- it's nothing, Commander. Cullen. I have to make sure my Inquisition is well looked-after." Ethor hoped that his blush wasn't too noticeable. Unlike Cullen, he didn't have an excuse for it.

"Cullen is- it's just fine," he said, and his smile was just so...it made Ethor feel like he'd stepped under a brightly lit lamp. "I'm no longer a Templar, I don't need a title. Cassandra sometimes calls me Knight Commander, even. I- I hope that doesn't bother you."

"It doesn't bother me anymore. If we're getting on first name terms, then Ethor will be just fine. Inquisitor sounds so...so stiff." He returned the smile, hoping that it was even a tenth as bright and honest as Cullen's.

That was when Cullen started blushing and everything started getting even more awkward than before, especially now all the food was finished. Ethor didn't really want to leave, but he had work to do and he understood Cullen did too. He also didn't want Cullen to think he was being insincere, and cutting their conversation off now would do just that. He just stood there for a minute, unsure of how to continue without stuttering like a nervous teenager. Thankfully, Cullen stepped in to save him. "I hope this doesn't sound rude, In- Ethor, but you saw the pile of work I had back there. I really shouldn't just leave it all afternoon, as much as I'd like to."

"I understand," he said, hoping his smile didn't look disappointed. "I have a lot of work to do today too, since I've been out in the field for so long. I'll see you in the dining hall later?" Cullen often didn't go to dinner, but Ethor could say the same of himself.

"I was planning to eat in my office, but I suppose I could make an exception." Cullen gave another one of his smiles, somehow awkward and yet still perfectly charming. Honestly, Ethor didn't know why there was a problem in this land at all. All they needed to do was to get Cullen to smile at whoever or whatever crossed their path and Thedas would be safe within days.


	4. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night at the Winter Palace is hectic, but one piece of good comes out of it.

Three lunch not-dates and a short while later, Ethor found himself in a situation that was certainly...different to anything that he had encountered before. A ball was not a place where he felt comfortable, and yet here he was, too stressed to even properly admire the way Cullen looked in formal clothes.

He loathed everything about this. The way all these people were wearing masks, the way they spoke, the way they looked at him and said 'he's a mage, you know'. Yes, he knew he was a mage, and so did half the people in Thedas. No one needed to say it when he was just about in range of hearing it. 

This whole Inquisitor thing was proving to be a hell of a lot more difficult than it had cracked up to be. Ethor had quite frankly lost count of the number of people he had spoken to tonight, and he wasn't getting very far with what he needed to do. He knew what he needed to do, of course, but it seemed to get more complicated with every step he took. The Empress, the Duchess, the Duke, Ambassador Briala who wasn't an ambassador but instead the person who half the people she 'represented' loathed for an old mistake she made years ago with a rich woman who was never going to be Empress.

It was awfully tempting to just give up, take a leaf out of Dorian's book, and get drunk on free alcohol, but that wasn't going to be possible. Ethor knew he had to do this, and he couldn't get distracted. But then he saw Cullen, struggling as he was surrounded by several noble men and women who had mutual interests with Ethor, but not in the way he wanted them to. Cullen and him weren't a couple, but they were friends, and these people were clearly making him uncomfortable (he was just trying to persuade himself that he wasn't jealous that they were getting his attention, however unwillingly he gave it).

He tried to carry on with his work, but his gaze kept darting back to Cullen every few moments. One of the women was practically hanging off of his arm now, and Ethor could see the discomfort on his face at being in such a position. Maker, he wanted to intervene. But how? "Commander Cullen!" He said, deciding to just go for it and hope for the best. Really, what could go wrong? "Could you introduce me to these people? They seem rather interested in the Inquisition."

Cullen looked up, and the relief that flashed across his face made Ethor have to bite back a grin. He glanced at the people surrounding him. "Um...this is, um..." It was clear that he didn't know, as Ethor had thought.

"If you're interested in assisting or making an offer to the Inquisition," he said, glancing over to where Leliana was watching the dancing. She would never forgive him if he sent them to her. "You would be very welcome to talk to our ambassador, Lady Montilyet."

Cullen's little fan club seemed a lot less keen now, quickly making their excuses and sidling away, no doubt in search of some other handsome yet gullible-looking person. "Are you alright, Cullen? They seemed rather...persistent."

"They kept asking me if I was involved with anyone," he said, frowning in the direction of the still retreating nobles. "I was tempted to tell them I was with Dorian, just to put them off. Orlesians don't look kindly on people from Tevinter."

"I'm sure Dorian would be thrilled. Perhaps you should ask him to dance." Ethor searched the room for his friend, finding the other mage with a half-empty glass of wine in one hand and the other hand trailing up and down the arm of some young and very flattered-looking nobleman. Typical.

"I cannot say that dancing was part of my education," Cullen said. "And when I say that, I mean I'm nigh on tone deaf and cannot dance at all."

"I received lessons from Josephine," he said. As soon as the ball was announced, she said she had to teach him how to dance. Her lessons were ruthless, but he'd learned. "She's a good teacher, maybe you should get lessons too."

"It's a little late for that now. And I can only imagine that she's a fearsome teacher..." Cullen shuddered. "If someone were to teach me to dance, I would rather they were a little gentler about it."

"I spent a little while moaning about being trapped inside a fortress and she became a little more patient, maybe she'll do the same for you," Ethor said, realising a little too late that Templars weren't trapped in the fortress. They could leave at any moment, and Cullen was living proof of that.

Cullen looked down at the floor, not saying anything for a minute. Ethor bit his lip, wondering if he'd overstepped a boundary, but then Cullen looked up again, smiling. "Why don't you give me a dancing lesson now, Ethor?"

He felt terrible, but he had to decline. "Maybe later," he said, hoping that there would still be a later. "I would love to, but I need to go into the royal rooms to check something out. People have died and I think I'm close to finding out what's really going on."

"Ah. Don't worry, I understand." Cullen reached out to touch his arm again, like he had on their first lunch not-date. "Perhaps when you're done, I can snag you for a dance. I'll look forward to it."

-

Several hours later, Ethor found himself out on the balcony, staring down at the floor a long way below and trying- mostly failing- to process the evening. He wasn’t even aware he had company until Cullen cleared his throat, coming to lean against the balcony next to him.

“Are you alright, Ethor? I know this evening’s been...stressful.”

He nodded, but he wasn’t alright. His head was swimming, and although what he chose seemed right, he knew from the reactions of many in the court and among his own people that it was not the solution that many were looking for. “At least we managed to end the war, I suppose.”

“We certainly managed to do that.” Cullen paused for a long moment, and to Ethor it looked like he was steeling himself to say something. Oh, no. He was going to say he disapproved of how things had ended, probably mutter something about how someone like Briala couldn’t be trusted. He gritted his teeth as Cullen looked back up, but what he actually heard made him blush right to the tips of his ears. “I realise I never got that dance with you, Ethor…” 

“We could now,” he said without thinking. He didn’t want to dance in front of the members of the court though, and he imagined that Cullen felt the same. “We can begin your lessons right here, if you want.” He bowed deeply to Cullen, tempted to take his hand and kiss it as if he were one of these fancy Orlesian gentlemen. “May I have this dance, Commander Rutherford?”

“Oh! I, um…yes. You may.” Cullen was blushing just as much as him now, which was quite a comfort to Ethor. Now, how did he go about teaching Cullen to dance? He thought for a moment, and then stepped forward and reached out to take Cullen’s hand and place it on his waist. Immediately, Cullen looked slightly more awkward. Maker, he was hopeless, but it was adorable. 

“The simplest dance just goes to a beat of three,” he said. “I’ll lead here because you don’t know it, but normally you would lead because you’re taller.” Significantly taller. He was taller than average, but Cullen loomed over him and pretty much everyone he knew. “Just follow what I do. If I take a step forwards, you go backwards.” He tried not to think about how warm Cullen was and how smooth his jacket was against his hand.

“Right. I can do that.” Cullen didn’t sound terribly sure of himself, but Ethor was willing to believe anything that he said, honestly. He just smiled, taking a step forward and starting to lead Cullen in a silent dance around the balcony. It was slow, and a little awkward, but still, Ethor felt like his heart was going to explode from beating too fast.

“You’re a natural,” he said, though really there was no way of telling. They were dancing without music, and it was very awkward, especially because Cullen was so much taller and significantly bulkier than him. It was hard to lead him even in such a small circle, and if anyone were to look over to them, they’d probably laugh at them. But he didn’t care. This moment was wonderful.

“You think so?” Cullen didn’t sound convinced, and that just made Ethor all the more eager to nod his head enthusiastically and smile. Right now, there was no better dancer on this earth than Cullen.

“We should practise back at Skyhold sometimes,” he suggested. This was much closer to what he wanted than just eating a meal together out on the battlements, and he almost felt bad for suggesting it. He very much doubted that Cullen would ever be interested in him.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all, I don’t think.” Cullen spoke in barely above a whisper, his blush darkening, and Ethor had to wonder briefly if he was alright. Maybe this was getting a bit too awkward for his liking now.

“I know you didn’t want to come today,” Ethor said, still pulling Cullen round in circles. It felt a little more natural now. “I appreciate that you did that, even when there were all those people who wanted to talk to you. I know you have little experience in Orlesian politics, but you agreed to come anyway, and that means a lot to me.”

“You asked me to come, and so I did it gladly. It wasn’t all awful…some of the food was good.” Cullen managed a smile, and Ethor laughed a little. “And of course, there’s this…this is, ah…this is a highlight of the evening.” 

“Well, my highlight definitely wasn’t anything else,” he said with a laugh before realising how bad that sounded. “I, um, that didn’t come out right. I’m enjoying dancing with you.” It was relaxing, and the air out here was cool and the noises of the scheming nobles were only in the background, sounding just like insignificant chatter.

“I understood what you meant.” Cullen smiled, and Ethor couldn’t think of anything to say to an expression like that so he just kept his mouth shut and hoped that Cullen couldn’t feel his racing heart. Perhaps this was the downside to never having dated anyone as a teenager- he was living through all of those awkward teenage moments now, instead. “Maybe if the nobles see me dancing with you, they’ll finally stop asking if-”

“Don’t worry about it, Cullen,” he said, managing a smile. He felt a bit challenged with all those nobles talking to him, even though he understood that Cullen didn’t like any of them one bit. It made him feel pretty proud of himself, because he’d never expected that Cullen would ever like him. He’d never expected to like Cullen, either; he’d expected to hate him because of everything they both stood for. And now here they both were, dancing out on the balcony of what was probably the most chaotic ball in Orlesian history. Or perhaps it wasn’t. Orlesian history seemed pretty...interesting, to say the least. “I’m sure Leliana can teach you how to understand their accents and pronounce their names.”

“That wasn’t why I was bothered!” Cullen protested, but he was smiling as he said it. “It was, but only a little. And only because they all had at least six names.”

“Six? I spoke to a woman with eleven names earlier. Orlesians are ridiculous…” Ethor found himself laughing, and then Cullen was laughing too, their careful dance breaking down into stumbling and then stopping, still half-holding onto one another. This was probably nervous laughter, the result of stress, but Ethor didn’t care. In the midst of all the chaos, Cullen was a glimmer of hope, and when they were together, having fun, he felt like he could live through these horrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing this, I asked the person I was collaborating with which ending we should use for the Winter Palace. They don't know too much about Dragon Age (but have an uncanny knack for writing Cullen), so I explained the options and the gist of the response was 'give me the lesbians'.


	5. Gay Chess Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Ethor play chess while discussing the ball at the Winter Palace.

“So you’re telling me you just went off and danced on the balcony?” Dorian stared at him, waving a pawn around as he spoke. “I noticed that you two were missing, but I thought you’d just gotten drunk and gone off to find a broom closet to do something regrettable in.” 

“Nothing more happened than what I just told you,” Ethor said, taking the chance to scan the board once more. “I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Cullen by pushing him into a closet, he’s tall and he’d get a bit cramped, especially if we were doing what you seem to be suggesting.”

“I’m not sure that’s the sort of thing that could ruin a friendship. Perhaps make it a little awkward for a week or two, but you’d recover.” Dorian shrugged, finally setting that pawn down in a new spot on the board. Ethor wasn’t entirely sure that it was a spot that that pawn was allowed to be in, but he would let that go for now. 

“I think it would,” he said. “I don’t really want to do that with him anyway, there doesn’t seem to be any point when we could just sit there talking, or we could dance like we did at Halamshiral.”

“You are dreadfully boring sometimes, Inquisitor,” Dorian said with a smile. “Though you really did spice things up in the Orlesian courts, I imagine. Maybe what happened between Celene and Briala isn’t quite so frowned upon there, but imagine! An elf, the newest member of the court. Riveting.”

“That’s the part of the ball that I would rather avoid talking about. Maker, I’m just glad that that mess is behind me.” Ethor made his move, smugly picking up one of Dorian’s knights and setting it by the side of the board. “There’ll probably be more messes to deal with soon, I imagine...” 

“Western Orlais, I heard,” Dorian said, leaning over the board. “Somewhere not nearly as bitterly cold as everywhere else in this forsaken corner of Thedas.” Trust Dorian to find a desert more hospitable than Ferelden.

“Lovely. It’ll be like a summer holiday for you, then…” Ethor drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for Dorian to make a move. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, by the way. One of those silly belts you wear is going to come a little loose and knock one of the pieces into a more convenient position, I know it is. Sit back and make a move. A legitimate one.”

“You are so cruel to me, Inquisitor! I would never cheat against my friend.” Dorian was smiling as he drew back and moved a piece. Ethor was starting to wonder if Dorian really was a genius like he claimed, because he was useless at chess.

“You’re an awful liar.” Ethor went ahead and took the piece that Dorian had just moved, shooting him a smirk. “Check.” Predictably, Dorian’s first response to that was to sigh dramatically and slap his hands down onto the table, bending over the chess board again and looking very deep in thought. “I would like to be able to see the board too, Lord Pavus.”

“Or do you just want to see my pretty face?” Dorian asked, leaning back and clasping his hands under his chin. “And there I thought you were into men with a larger stature. Or is it blonds that you like?”

'It's- it's neither!" Ethor felt his face heat up, and he tried to glare at Dorian. He didn't think that his glare ended up particularly threatening, though. "I just- Cullen is nice. He's a very good man."

"Ah, so your heart only goes for those who are pure and true. Looking for a knight in shining armour?" Dorian suddenly snorted. "How about Blackwall?"

"Dorian! You're being ridiculous. And you haven't even made your move yet." That second part was a fairly hopeless attempt to divert the subject away from Ethor's love life. He had a feeling that it wouldn't work.

"Surely Grey Wardens match your ideals more than Templars," Dorian said, idly placing a finger on a piece, scanning the board before moving it. "Even if he's no longer a Templar, I doubt he could just get rid of those prejudices." Ethor understood what Dorian was trying to get him to think about, but he knew Cullen better.

"Cullen is a good man. He's...he's past all of that. Trust me. If you spent some time talking to him, you'd see it. He's trying his best to be accepting of mages, he's aware that the Templars weren't exactly doing morally sound things to people like us."

Dorian just shook his head. "I know it seems terribly close-minded of me, but I just can't comprehend how you can forgive people for what has been done to you and all the mages here in the south." Ethor glanced around at his words, pleased to see that there was no one listening in. Even here, this was a very sensitive topic and they couldn't afford to have his views spread around.

"It's not like Cullen was personally responsible for all of it." Ethor lowered his voice a little, even though they were alone. "I haven't forgiven the Templars as a whole, but Cullen is apologetic and willing to change."

"I suppose," Dorian said. "In Tevinter, political views are usually a position you take from the beginning and hold until the end. There is very little difference in opinion, though, so I imagine there's no reason to change your views."

"The rights of mages may be political," he said, "but sometimes it's just personal. Cullen and I don't talk about our political views or even our pasts, because it doesn't come up in our friendship." He would bring it up, really, but he didn't want to because he didn't want to ruin whatever it was they had.

Dorian seemed to sense that the topic was getting a little too heavy then, because he leaned back in his seat and smirked at Ethor. "Oh? What does come up in your friendship, then? His big brown eyes? All of those lovely muscles? You must have so much to discuss..."

Ethor found himself blushing at the thought. He did spend a lot of time thinking about Cullen's eyes. He couldn't help it, they were beautiful. "Normally we appreciate the peace and quiet that comes from being away from a particularly annoying mage who's always saying rather embarrassing things."

"Oh, really? I can't imagine who that mage could possibly be..." Dorian was not very good at looking innocent. There was just something inherently mischievous about his tone of voice, and Ethor couldn't help but laugh a little.

“Very funny.” He realised that he hadn’t made his move yet, and he quickly shifted one of his bishops, taking another of Dorian’s pawns. “At this rate, all you’re going to have left is your king. Who taught you to play chess?”

“I’m picking it up as I go along, admittedly,” Dorian said. “I didn’t play back at home, I needed more time to flirt with men before I could lure them into a place with an appropriate level of anonymity.”

“I see. You could do with picking it up a little faster, I would say.” Ethor wondered if anyone had ever taught him how to cheat, because he was certainly rather proficient at that. “You know, you tease me a lot about Cullen. How come I never have any good material to tease you with?”

“Because I am flawless and there is no part of me that can be teased.” Dorian smiled a very full-toothed smile which made Ethor want to ask if people from Tevinter whitened their teeth with blood magic, just to wind him up.

“Except your ego,” he said. “I can tease that because it’s a bit on the large side and can’t find any normal robes that fit.”

Dorian practically spluttered at that, looking mightily offended for a moment and then regaining his composure. “My ego is perfectly reasonable for a man as interesting and perfect as I am.”

“Perfect, yet you cannot play chess,” he said. “I think it was one of the only things we were allowed to do at the Circle when we weren’t studying, because it was seen as a very sedate game.” Back to the topic of the Circles again, but it was hard to avoid and he hated that.

“Chess is a game for people who want to flirt with each other under the guise of moving small wooden lumps around a board, that’s all I’ve managed to gather.” Dorian shrugged. “We are the exception to that, though. We just discuss flirting with other people.”

“Who else did you play chess with if you think it’s all about flirting?” He asked. He did like to ask the people he felt attraction towards to play chess with him back in Ostwick, but usually he just tried to get to know them better and maybe impress them. He’d always been shy about flirting.

“I’ve played with a few of the men here. Perhaps I should ask Cullen to play with me…” Dorian grinned. “I could find out just how much he likes you…wouldn’t you appreciate that? It would be fun…or perhaps you could ask him to play with you. Or is my dear friend not comfortable flirting by himself?”

“I don’t need to flirt with him,” he said. He didn’t like flirting because it got embarrassing very quickly and he always blushed too much and then started thinking about Dorian teasing him. Cullen also got flustered pretty easily, so he didn’t want to embarrass him, because that would probably just make him hate him.

“Oh, sure you don’t. Get him all flushed and confused, and then sweep in and ask him on a date whilst he’s still flustered. Or just ask him back to your quarters for some fun. That’s what I do, but I know you and I are very different men.”

“I don’t think he likes me,” he said, watching as Dorian made a move that put himself at checkmate in six moves, as long as he didn’t see it coming. “Not in that way, at least. I’m really not his type and I’m fairly sure he only likes women.”

“How do you know that Cullen has a type? Is this the sort of thing you discuss?” Dorian leaned forwards, looking absolutely fascinated. Of course a subject like this would catch his interest. “I don’t know about you, but I get some very strong not-heterosexual vibes from him.”

“How?” Ethor asked. He didn’t have any experience in this and he had no idea how Dorian could tell. For Dorian, though, he supposed being able to tell was more important. When they were all out fighting for their lives during the rebellion, you just sort of asked people if they wanted to kiss, and sometimes they said yes, at other times they said no. “I didn’t know there was much difference.”

“I can’t describe it. He just...looks like the sort of guy who wouldn’t be opposed to sharing his bed with another man. He was a Templar, for goodness’ sake, I’m sure there was plenty of sleeping together and then hurriedly praying to the Maker to absolve them of their sins afterwards.”

“Templars take chastity vows outside of Tevinter,” he explained. “At least, the ones at my Circle did. But that’s because of the special type of hatred that people in the Free Marches seem to reserve for mages.” He didn’t want to go into that one any further, and he definitely didn’t want to talk to Cullen about that kind of thing. He’d been at the Kirkwall Circle and Ethor knew exactly what they were known for.

“Chastity vows don’t mean anything when you’re lonely and sharing a room with several other men, I’m sure.” Dorian studied the chess board and made a move, then smirked up at Ethor. “I’m sure our dear Commander has had plenty of interesting...misadventures, late at night.”

“Wh-what are you suggesting, Dorian?” He asked, moving another piece into place for his coming win before trying, unsuccessfully, to stop blushing. “I hope it’s not what I think. Because there’s a level you really don’t go to when thinking about people, and I think that reaches it.”

“You know perfectly well what I’m suggesting. As for this level…I wasn’t aware of it. I’ve thought much worse things about a lot of people and it hasn’t done me any harm before.” Dorian made another move, still apparently blissfully unaware of his rapidly approaching defeat. “Regardless of any lines I have crossed, should I talk to him? Try to discern if I am correct?”

“I still don’t understand how you think you can find out,” he said with a slight sigh. He knew he should refuse Dorian’s offer outright, it was wrong, but he did want to know. He wanted to know if he should give up trying and just stay friends or if he should maybe take it further. “But okay. Go ahead. Also, checkmate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably the first scene planned in this fic :) one of the earlier concepts we had before we started writing was Dorian and Ethor being cute friends and playing chess together while talking about Cullen.


	6. Struggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethor and Cullen eat lunch together again, but something is wrong.

“I spoke to the Commander like you asked, Inquisitor, and, well, to put it bluntly…I’m fairly sure there’s nothing he would rather do than have you up in that draughty little bedroom of his.” Of all the things that Ethor had been expecting to be greeted with when he met with Dorian that morning, that certainly had not been one of them. But here he was, in an open public space, and Dorian was hardly being quiet with his greeting.

“Dorian, keep your voice down!” People were not yet staring, but that was probably because they hadn’t processed what had been said yet. What if Cullen heard of it? It would be mortifying and he’d never want to speak to him again. “What did you even say to him?”

“Oh, not too much. I flirted a little, and he got horribly flustered. Then I mentioned you, and he got even more flustered. It was quite adorable, really.” Dorian chuckled, reaching out to pat Ethor on the arm. “He’s quite smitten with you.”

"You flirted with him?" He asked, trying desperately to keep the infuriation out of his voice. What did he do to deserve a meddling friend like Dorian? Again he contemplated whether it was the number of Templars he'd insulted. "I cannot believe you."

"I didn't flirt with intent. Don't worry, I'm not going to steal your boyfriend. I told you, he's not my type." Dorian smirked. "All I did was throw a few compliments his way and then mention that you talked about him a lot. He sounded most flattered. And more than a little interested in pursuing something more than a casual friendship."

"You are the worst person I know," he said, but it was without any significant amount of commitment. Dorian's words lit a spark of hope in his mind that maybe things could work out in this area of his life for once. "I said I'd eat lunch with him later, maybe I'll ask him then." This was the wrong thing to say, of course, because Dorian's eyes gained a gleeful look.

"If you do, I want to hear every detail. If the man dares reject you, I'll be right by your side to call him a bastard and deny ever saying a good word about him. But I doubt that's going to happen. If you sleep with him, I still want all of the details. Something tells me he'll be interesting in bed, wouldn't you agree...?"

"I think you're more interested in seeing him in bed than I am," he said. Dorian had an obsession with sex that seemed pointless to him. "I'll tell you later what happens, though I doubt it will be as much as you expect."

"At the very least, you've got to kiss him." Dorian laid a hand on Ethor's shoulder, giving him an awfully serious look. "Do that much for me, so that I know you aren't completely hopeless."

"Unlikely," he admitted. He very much wanted to kiss Cullen, but maybe he would want to go slowly. Maybe he wanted to talk first, get an indication of his feelings. They'd spoken a few times about romance, usually under the topic of 'rumour says you're with this person', and Cullen had mentioned that he hadn't even considered anyone for over four years.

Dorian just tutted, pulling away to give Ethor a little room to breathe. "Fine, fine. Hold his hand, then. Just the most innocent little gesture of romance, that's all I'm asking. Show me you can do something."

"I'm not promising anything except that I might try," he said. It was nerve-wracking just thinking about it. Telling Cullen that he found him attractive, that he wanted to be in a relationship with him...how could he even go about doing that?

"Don't be so hopeless. Have a little confidence. You're an attractive man, and Cullen is drooling over you. He probably dreams about you, honestly. The man's smitten. Now, go. Talk to him. I will eagerly await your report..."

-

Ethor tried his hardest to act naturally when around Cullen, but it was difficult at the best of times. Now, when he knew he had something to say and he was just waiting for the best time to say it, it was almost impossible to sit there and pay attention to something that the soldiers were gossiping about. All he could think about were Cullen's lips, and his eyes, and the way his voice sounded.

Their little lunch not-dates had increasingly turned into a relaxing little escape from talk of the Inquisition, but now this was the most stressed Ethor had felt in a while. And something was off with Cullen, too- he kept bringing his hand up to his face, speaking as little as possible and avoiding looking anywhere but the floor.

It occurred to him about halfway through their food that maybe Dorian had put him off. Maybe he'd said something or heard something and now he didn't want to be friends anymore because he knew the truth. Though Dorian's words had inspired confidence, now he realised that even if Cullen was attracted to him, he may not want to act on it

Ethor glanced down at the remains of his food, now considerably less interested in finishing it. He pushed it aside, sighing and looking Cullen up and down once again. "Cullen, I have to ask. Is everything alright?"

"Oh, ah," Cullen looked up, smiled briefly, and looked down again. "Just a headache, nothing more. It's making me feel a little ill, but the fresh air helps."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear it." He truly was, but Ethor was also a little relieved. Cullen wasn't hiding away from him, then. "Perhaps we should reschedule this little meeting for another time...? You need your rest."

"I was intending going back to working after this," Cullen said, but Ethor shook his head. Now Cullen had mentioned it, he could really see that the man was exhausted and in pain.

"You shouldn't," he said. "Come on, I'll help you up to your quarters and you can do work when you're feeling better."

"Absolutely not," Cullen said, and his face suddenly looked hard and his hands had drifted from the back of his neck to the hilt of his sword. Ethor was sure it was a nervous tic, but he made sure his magic was to hand nonetheless. "I cannot take a break every time I have a headache."

“Take a break this time, then. We can cancel the rest of lunch and you can use the time to rest. Do you need any potions? I could get something for you.” Ethor reached out a little cautiously, going to touch Cullen’s arm and start guiding him away, but he flinched back. 

“No, I...I’m sorry, Ethor,” he said, “but I can’t. If I am not capable of doing my job because of this...it is important, but I can’t find the words to explain it. I will tell you when I’m feeling better, but for the sake of my pride I wish to continue as I am.”

“Cullen, listen to me. As the Inquisitor, I am ordering you to go and rest a little.” Ethor didn’t much like using his authority against people he cared for, but Cullen was being frankly ridiculous. He could spare an hour to take a nap or even just rest from all of that paperwork he had to do.

Cullen sighed and looked down, clearly only just realising that his hands were resting on the hilt of his sword. “I-I apologise for not being right for something so important,” he said, jerking his arms away from his sword and starting to walk away. Even as he walked, he looked unsteady.

Ethor blinked at his retreating back, wondering what he could possibly have meant by that. There was no one in the Inquisition better suited for the role of Commander than Cullen was, of that he was absolutely certain. He bit his lip, debating whether or not he should catch up and find out what was really wrong.

Before Cullen even reached his office, he stumbled and had to catch the wall of the battlements to hold himself up. Had he been standing in one of the gaps, Ethor didn’t even want to think about what could have happened. He ran forwards to catch the side of Cullen’s shoulder, trying to steady him. Once again, Cullen flinched, then twisted to see Ethor and breathed a shaky sigh. “Leave me, I-I’ll be fine…”

“You don’t look fine. You look terrible. Are you getting ill? I can have a healer sent to your quarters if that’s necessary. You shouldn’t be active whilst you’re like this…” Cullen shook his head immediately.

“It’s a lingering illness, if you could call it one,” he said with a sigh. “I imagine I’ll be fine tomorrow, don’t worry about me. I know little about it other than personal experience, but I will have this illness for the rest of my life. You are welcome to ask Cassandra about it, she is in charge of judging if a replacement is needed.”

“A replacement? That surely won’t be necessary. I couldn’t think of anyone better to have in the role of Commander. Let me help you to your quarters, at least.” Ethor hooked his arm around Cullen’s shoulders to give him more support, his thoughts about telling Cullen how he felt now thoroughly eclipsed by his need to help his friend get some rest. “I’ve never seen you this bad before, which shows me that this is rare and no action is needed.”

Cullen shook his head, but he didn’t say anything more as Ethor helped him to his office. He stood at the bottom of the ladder, waiting for Cullen to climb the ladder. If this was something that frequently plagued Cullen, he couldn’t imagine that the ladder was helping him at all. Once Cullen was at the top, he followed. Now he was up here, he wouldn’t imagine Cullen would want to get down again, but he wanted to make sure that Cullen didn’t just go straight back to working.

“You don’t need to follow me up here,” Cullen protested weakly, but Ethor shook his head and folding his arms, nodding towards the bed, Cullen sighed and went to sit down, starting to pull off some of the heavy armour that he always wore. Honestly, Ethor couldn’t imagine that that stuff was comfortable to wear all the time, or in any way cool when they had to walk a long distance. He didn’t know how Cullen managed it.

“How can you wear such heavy armour?” He asked. He hoped that maybe idle conversation would mean that Cullen’s mind would be taken off the pain and the cause of it. “It looks uncomfortable and heavy.”

“How do you only wear robes?” He returned after a moment with a small smile. “It always looks like mages will fall over if they continue with all that twisting they do when they cast spells.”

“I’ve never had need to wear anything else, and as for the twisting, we practise a lot. I’m sure some people have fallen over in the middle of casting, it really wouldn’t surprise me.” Ethor wandered over a little closer to Cullen, glancing up at the boards loosely covering a large hole in the ceiling. “How do you sleep with all of the cold mountain air coming in?”

“It’s fine,” Cullen said. “I have plenty of furs, and I’d much rather have the cold air than sleep in the barracks with the other soldiers. They can be very rowdy.” He moved to sit on the bed, but within a moment he had doubled over and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Cullen?” Ethor frowned, rushing to his side in a moment. “What’s wrong? Maker, you didn’t even have to come to lunch with me in the first place if you were feeling like this. I was only so insistent about it today because I- never mind, actually. It’s not important. What’s important is your health.”

“It’s nothing,” he managed, but it really wasn’t nothing, that was obvious and he wasn’t a fool. Cullen must be in a lot of pain and he didn’t even want to mention it before. “It would be better if you left, you won’t have to see this.”

“Cullen, I know you don’t...I know you’re wary and you’re right to be, but I know some healing magic.” Generally he didn’t even offer unless it was in the heat of the moment on the field. It was very rare that anyone wanted to accept help from a mage when they were injured, and people didn’t like to be reminded that he was one. Occasionally he chipped in with Adan to treat the wounded, but many of the soldiers didn’t like it.

“Ethor, I can’t-” Cullen shuddered then, one of his hands clenching in his hair so hard that his knuckles turned white. He looked pale, like he was going to be sick, and Ethor glanced around to see if there was a bucket anywhere nearby. “Maker...alright. I won’t pretend to like magic, but if it can help this, I’ll take anything.”

“I don’t know, but I can try,” he said, sitting down next to Cullen- it would be easier to focus this way. He had no idea what was wrong with Cullen, but it didn’t appear to be a physical injury. “If you can, could you tell me what it is that’s wrong?”

“Everything-everything hurts. It’s lyrium withdrawal…Maker, it’s almost never gotten this bad before. I’m sorry that you have to see me like this.” Cullen doubled over again, really looking like he was going to be sick, but nothing came up. Thankfully.

Lyrium withdrawal. It all made sense now. The way Cullen felt different to every other Templar, because he wasn’t one. All the other Templars who had left the Order to join the Inquisition were still taking lyrium, but Cullen always felt different. Less dangerous, further away from the oppressive feeling of lyrium all around him but just out of reach of his magic. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, resorting to the phrase he always used when healing others.

Cullen didn’t respond in any way other than a soft groan, and Ethor figured that now would be a good time for some healing magic. He reached out, warm healing magic glowing on his fingers, and carefully rested his hand on his arm. It would be more effective if the magic was applied over his heart, but he wasn’t going to ask Cullen to take his shirt off. Even if he wanted to. “This...shouldn’t hurt. Let me know if it does.”

Cullen didn’t say anything, but his tensed posture relaxed slightly as he let the magic flow in. It was just a trickle because it wasn’t a physical wound, but Ethor could feel it moving straight to his heart, where it was needed. Lyrium usually entered the bloodstream before flowing to the mind, and though Ethor had never dealt with long term withdrawal before, there had been a few days when making their way to Skyhold when the Templars were suffering because they had gone a few days. This was much the same, and he knew magic was the only thing they’d found which could ease the pain. The experience meant he knew what would happen next, so he could ease Cullen through it. “It moves to your heart first, it will feel warm there, but not like lyrium. When it manages to reach your head, the pain will ease a little. It will work better if you lie down,” he said.

“Okay…” Cullen moved a hand to his heart, pressing against it and frowning. “That’s...that’s almost nice. I never thought I would be saying that about magic…thank you for doing this, Ethor. You’re the first person to know about the lyrium who hasn’t treated me like I’m some experiment that needs constant guarding.” Ethor made a mental note to ask Cassandra about how she saw Cullen’s efforts, because that didn’t sound good. He deserved respect and assistance, not suspicion. He watched Cullen as he lowered himself down further. That would help the magic flow to his mind and he would be out of the worst of the pain.  
Without thinking, he moved his hand from Cullen’s forearm to his hand instead. If anyone asked, it was for a larger surface area to spread the magic over because of their linked fingers. It was nothing else unless Cullen wanted it to be more.

Cullen didn’t object, and instead he simply just lay there, his eyes half-closed to shield them from the light pouring in through the hole in the ceiling. He was probably feeling too ill to even register that Ethor was holding his hand. Maker, it hurt to see him like this. He wanted to confess now, wanted to tell Cullen how much he cared, but it wouldn’t be fair. Not when he was so ill.

He sat there with Cullen, their fingers linked, his magic just gently trickling in, until Cullen’s breathing was no longer laboured and he could feel that the pain had been partly eased. Looking over, Cullen was asleep, but his hand was holding his so tightly that he doubted he could move without waking him. It looked like he was going to be stuck here for a while, then. Oh, well. Ethor could think of far worse places to be stuck than sat next to Cullen with their hands linked. And waking him would be cruel- he needed this sleep desperately, that much was clear. “Sleep well,” he murmured, smiling softly. “Feel better soon.”


	7. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regretting what happened the day before, Ethor goes to see Cullen again.

That evening, Dorian had convinced Ethor to accompany him to the tavern. Apparently he didn’t want to play chess, and was in need of a drink. Ethor felt like he might share that second sentiment after having spent almost two hours holding Cullen’s hand. The Commander had been incredibly sheepish upon waking, insisting that Ethor needn’t have stayed, really, but thanking him profusely for his help. Ethor had held back the grin until he was out of Cullen’s quarters, and then he had been smiling for the whole rest of the afternoon. Even if his hand was still a little numb.

“I’m not drinking too much,” he warned Dorian. “I’m going out to the Western Approach tomorrow at dawn to see if we can set up camp before nightfall. I don’t want to be hungover in the middle of a desert.”

“You’re so boring,” Dorian complained, but he was smiling, as always. “I don’t mind as long as I get to hear what happened during your three hour lunch break with the Commander.” Ethor made a point of not looking at Dorian because he just knew that he was doing something dubious with his eyebrows.

“One day someone is going to come along who is better at making snide comments than you are, and then you’ll get to see what I feel like when you’re around.” Ethor nudged Dorian in the ribs, shooting him a stern look before he could dramatically collapse to the ground. Dorian just groaned, picking up his glass and downing the rest of his drink in three mouthfuls. 

“Alright…now that I’ve prepared myself for the sickly sweet innocence your story will no doubt explain, tell me exactly what you spent those three hours doing.”

“I ate lunch with Cullen, and then he took ill when we were done, so I couldn’t tell him what I wanted to,” he said. It was true, and he didn’t want to betray Cullen’s trust by telling Dorian exactly what was going on. “I helped him back to his quarters and waited with him while he rested.”

“You watched him sleep all afternoon?” Dorian raised one perfect eyebrow, and then his expression turned mischievous. “I’m intrigued…does our mighty Commander snore? I overheard a rumour from one of the others here, but I really must know if it’s true…”

“He doesn’t,” Ethor said with a smile. “At least, he didn’t while I was there.” There had been moments when Cullen had twisted around because of a nightmare and his reaction to that involved a few moans, but mostly it was very quiet. He wasn’t going to tell Dorian about the nightmares any more than he would about the lyrium, even if he was pretty sure that it was obvious all of them were suffering in some way because of the things they’d seen.

“Boring. So, how come you didn’t leave? It must have been awkward, him waking up to find our illustrious leader staring at him.” Dorian flagged down the bartender, motioning that he wanted more drinks. Honestly, Ethor didn’t know how he had the money to keep up such an extensive drinking habit.

“I was, um, leaving would have woken him,” he said, looking around quickly to check that no one was listening to him. He could ignore the person he knew was one of Leliana’s spies, though, because she’d find out anyway. Instead, he smiled and waved at the woman, who smiled and looked away. “I was helping him with his headache and he fell asleep when I was holding his hand to help.”

“Oh, so at least you kept that promise. You had better kiss him the next time you meet. And then maybe we can work up to you doing...other things.” Dorian grinned. “Your favourite mage will be very glad to listen to all the tales of your various and no doubt thrilling future exploits.”

“You don’t need to know,” he said. “I may not be as experienced as you, but I do have a good idea about how to go about this.” This was a lie, of course. He had no idea. Being locked up in a fortress for most of his life meant that he didn’t really know anything about relationships, but he imagined that Cullen didn’t know too much either.

“Whatever you say. Have a drink, Inquisitor, you look awfully tense…” Ethor wasn’t surprised that he did- now that the happy glow of having spent an afternoon with Cullen had worn off, he was a little worried. What if Cullen wouldn’t want to talk to him now that he knew about the lyrium withdrawal? Or what if he’d been put off by the hand-holding? Maybe he was serious about trying to get a replacement, or maybe the suffering of the evening meant he’d decide to go back to taking it? He wasn’t sure he could like Cullen as much as he did now if he went back to being just like a Templar. And he knew going back to it would crush Cullen’s chance of a good future and it would destroy his confidence. He couldn’t let that happen. He would talk to Cullen about it tomorrow.

“Fine, but only one, just as I said.” He would have to get up even earlier if he wanted to have a proper talk with Cullen before he left. Cullen normally got up an hour before dawn to help with training, so he could go then. 

“Whatever you say, Ethor.” Dorian pushed a rather large glass over to him, and Ethor eyed it dubiously and then shrugged. One drink wouldn’t hurt, even if it was quite large. He’d suffered through far worse evenings than being a little tipsy with his best friend.

-

He managed to get through the night with only that one drink, sipping it very slowly and eating with it too. He didn’t get nearly as drunk as Dorian did, which was good, because Dorian very nearly embarrassed both of them. If he’d been any more drunk he probably would have let Dorian challenge the Iron Bull in front of the whole tavern. As it was, he managed to save his friend from being beaten into the ground. Admittedly he’d had to undergo the interesting and difficult task of dragging a drunken mage back to his quarters and trying to stop him from accidentally setting anything on fire, but it had worked eventually. Ethor himself had gone to bed feeling a little better about the whole Cullen situation, too. Being in a good mood made it a lot easier to see that it was likely that nothing at all had changed between them, and if anything, they would have grown closer. He hoped so, anyway.

The next morning, he managed to get up a couple of hours before the sun rose so he could have everything ready before he had to go and see Cullen. He packed all his supply packs and put them on his horse before making his way up to the tower that formed Cullen’s base of operations.

He knocked on the door, once again feeling irrationally nervous about it. A slightly groggy call of ‘enter’ sounded from within, and Ethor pushed open the door. Cullen’s eyes widened almost immediately, and he sat up from where he had been slumped in his chair, obviously still tired. Ethor couldn’t blame him. It was still shockingly early. “Inquisitor,” he said, sounding slightly less groggy than before.

“I’m surprised you’re awake, Commander,” he said with a smile. “I was just hoping to catch you before you got stuck in with whatever you have to do today.”

“And what do I owe this very early visit to?” He asked, smiling back. He probably knew already, and Ethor checked him over quickly before beginning the conversation. Tired, yes, but at this time that wasn’t surprising. He looked like he hadn’t quite warmed up yet, either, but he looked a lot healthier than he had the day before.

“I just wanted to make sure that you were alright after yesterday.” He stepped closer, leaning one hand on Cullen’s desk. “I trust that you’re feeling better? You certainly look a little further away from death’s door than you did yesterday. If I helped at all, I’m glad that I could make you feel better. You...don’t deserve to suffer like that. It’s a brave thing you’re doing, giving up lyrium.”

“Thank you,” he said, but he looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s never been that bad before, I’m a little worried it will get worse as time goes by.” Ethor could understand that, but to him it seemed like Cullen was only a little worse than the Templars who had just missed a couple of days of lyrium. But he knew he couldn’t truly understand the kind of pain Cullen had been in the day before.

“You can come to me whenever it’s bad,” he promised, “and I’ll try to help in any way I can. You shouldn’t have to suffer in silence, especially if you feel like it’s going to harm your ability to do things you value.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on you,” Cullen said quietly. “Asking for help when I’ve been managing just fine without it…that would be selfish, especially knowing the duties that you have to perform. I can’t take up your time any more than is necessary, that isn’t fair.”

“I probably won’t hold your hand for two hours next time, even though I do-” He stopped himself when he realised what he was saying. This would not be a good time to talk about his feelings. It would possibly be the worst time, in fact, after all of what happened yesterday and what he would have to do later. He couldn’t just say it and then go off to the desert for what would possibly be a couple of weeks.

“You do what?” Cullen’s voice wasn’t sharp, just curious- Ethor wasn’t often one for stumbling over his words, so pausing partway through a sentence was clearly something to take note of. “Are you alright, Ethor? If you’ve any concerns, I’ll listen. I owe it to you.”

“I-I’m sorry if I bothered you by sitting with you yesterday,” he said quickly. He couldn’t think of what to say, could he even cover up what he’d just almost said? Should he? He might not have another chance for a while, weeks probably, and when he came back all him and Cullen would talk about would be how much he hated sand. And then Cullen would tease him about how it’s worse when not wearing light clothes, and it would all be friendly and maybe there wouldn’t be a moment like this again. “I was planning on...never mind. I don’t want to bother you with this.”

“No, no, you’re not bothering me. I have a half hour before I have to go and train the recruits, and I’ve certainly got nothing better to do than to spend the time with you.” Cullen smiled innocently, and Ethor wondered if he knew what he was saying. How much it sounded almost like flirting, and how much he wished it was flirting. “You did something for me yesterday that I doubt anyone else would have done, and I’m very grateful for it. The least that I can do in return is listen to what is troubling you.”

“I’m- I, I don’t know how to say it,” he said, knowing that this was an incredibly bad idea. Should he just go straight in for a kiss? Probably a bad idea, the last time he kissed someone they died in the next battle and that was not a good thing to think about when looking straight at the person you very much wanted to kiss. “You can stop me if you want to, I won’t hold it against you, however you answer this question. Do you, I mean- I, I don’t know how to ask. Do you, I, I really like you and I find you very attractive. I’m sorry it’s very unprofessional but-”

Cullen didn’t say anything at first- he just sat behind his desk with an unreadable expression. Ethor bit his lip. He’d definitely gone about this all wrong. Asking someone to date you was supposed to be subtle and calm, not some infantile rush of words. He was the leader of the Inquisition, how could he mess up doing something as simple as asking someone on a date? “I’m sorry,” he said, trying not to sound as angry with himself as he felt. “I’ll- just...go. I’m very sorry to have wasted your time like that and I hope it won’t come between our friendship.”

“No, I- Inquisitor. Ethor. I’m sorry I just, I wasn’t expecting it.” Cullen stood up and crossed the room, standing by the door before he could leave. “This will not come between anything we have,” he said, and then he leaned down and brushed his lips against his cheek. “I, um, haven’t yet cleaned my teeth this morning.”

“I- oh.” Ethor blinked. “Well. In that case. Might I suggest that you go and do so, and then you come back here?” He smiled, hoping to project a little of the same confidence that Dorian did so easily. “I’m sure there’s a little time before you have to go train the recruits.”

“I’m sure I can find the time,” he said, disappearing up the ladder. Ethor couldn’t stop the soft sound of excitement from escaping his mouth. He’d done it and it hadn’t gone badly and Cullen had kissed his cheek and then they were going to probably kiss properly before he left and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. Maker, he needed to stop acting like a teenager. Dorian would definitely tease him about it if he ever found out. Ethor cleared his throat and did his best to look normal. It didn’t work out too well, as he was still smiling in a rather uncontrollable way, no matter how much he fought to stop it.

Cullen tripped slightly as he skipped the last few rungs of the ladder on the way down. Now he was back, it felt almost as awkward and strange as it had when he had confessed to Cullen. “I, um, I’m ready now?” Cullen said, smiling and taking a step closer to Ethor.

“I guessed.” Ethor wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this. He hesitated for a moment, steeling himself, and then stepped forward and pressed his lips to Cullen’s. It wasn’t the most natural thing in the world, and he was hardly experienced with kissing, but it was nice. It was what he’d been wanting, with Cullen warm against him and one arm around his waist to keep him close.

“That was, um-” Cullen was smiling, so Ethor leaned in to kiss him again. Hopefully he wasn’t trying to say it was bad. This time, Cullen was properly kissing him back and it was wonderful. It was so wonderful and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was that his feelings were returned.

Ethor pulled away a couple of minutes later, a little breathless and smiling brightly. He stroked Cullen’s hair, admiring how soft those blond curls were. “You should probably go down to the training yard now. Can’t keep the recruits waiting…” He grinned, unable to stop himself. “I’ll be going away a little later today, but when I return…I’d like to continue this, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll be eagerly awaiting your return,” Cullen said with a smile. “And Ethor? Thank you. For everything you’ve done.”


	8. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethor is in the desert and he does not appreciate being away from Cullen for so long.

Deserts were not exactly one of Ethor’s favourite places. He would find sand everywhere, even inside of his clothing or scattered over the floor of his tent when they made camp for the night. And when they made camp, he would have to write mission reports, thinking constantly of the fact that they were going to be read by Cullen. On the second day of the journey, a thought occurred to him- writing Cullen a little note at the bottom of the report might be a welcome surprise. Knowing him, he would probably blush. So, Ethor did it, because he did love Cullen’s blush.

Cullen,  
The desert is hardly pleasant, and I’m getting sand in the ink as I write. Dorian complains almost non stop- he’s been quite thrilled by the knowledge of what we did, though. I’d disclose what he says we should do next, but I’d be afraid of scandalising anyone else who might read this.   
Hope you’re well,  
Ethor

He was tempted to end that note with a kiss, but that might have been a little too much, so he just enclosed the note with the mission report of the usual routing Red Templars and finding strange bits of stone around the place. He also wrote about the strange temple that they’d opted to leave for the moment after getting the Venatori out and setting up a guard there. The magic in there looked dangerous, so they were going to wait for Solas to arrive so he could study it.

Two nights later, a messenger arrived with a report of the goings-on in Skyhold, and attached to it was another small note. Ethor couldn’t help but smile to himself, collecting the report with a cheery word of thanks to the messenger and heading off to his tent to read what Cullen had written to him.

Ethor,  
Whatever you do, don’t use fire magic too much in the desert; the hot winds can make it spread out of control or even blow back in your face. I’m sure Lord Pavus is very interested in what we get up to and you can inform him from me that Iron Bull is restless without him.  
News got around camp almost as soon as your letter arrived that we were seeing each other. I have been approached by several of our people since, warning me of the dangers of ‘consorting with a mage’.  
Please be sure to inform me when you intend to fry me with your magic.  
Stay out of quicksand,  
Cullen.

The last couple of lines had him chuckling, and then the note was folded up and carefully tucked into his pocket. He had a report to write, and...he may as well write another note to Cullen whilst he was at it. 

Cullen,  
I’ll be sure to let Dorian know that he’s missed. As for frying you, I’ll be sure to make it clear when I intend to do so. You will certainly be the first to know. I should have suspected that there was no way to keep the two of us a secret, although I fail to see how anyone could have seen us kiss. Perhaps upon my return we should kiss in front of everyone and see how well that is received.   
Ethor  
X

He considered crossing the kiss out, but he decided not to. It would look really bad if he decided to cross it out, and he didn’t want to hurt Cullen’s feelings. People already knew they were together, so there was no harm in them seeing an affectionate note.

Telling Dorian he had been missed by Iron Bull was a very interesting experience, to say the least. His initial reaction had been utter rejection, saying it was just a joke that he was playing, but when he had repeated it and shown Dorian the note from Cullen, there was a lot of spluttering from Dorian. Finally, it seemed that Ethor had something to tease him back about. There were no doubt innumerable jokes to be made, and he would endeavour to find a few over the next couple of days. Dorian had been doing plenty of his own teasing- no doubt he would gleefully spread it across Skyhold that he had been the first to know about the Inquisitor’s little romance.

The next note from Cullen arrived the day before they were planning to assault the frozen temple. Dorian and Solas had compared notes on their knowledge of rift magic and time magic, and Solas was already on his way back to Skyhold, as they had decided that Dorian would understand what was going on a little more.

Ethor,  
I hope this note finds you well and without sand in every fold of your robes. I hope your plans to fry me are also going well, it would be quite poetic if you did it the day of a year after we met.  
The others keep pestering me to write certain messages in these notes. Leliana says I should say I miss you, but I thought that would sound soppy as you will only be back in a few days. Cassandra says I should remind you about proper notation in reports, but I can read them fine.  
Josephine says good luck, and I echo that sentiment. I hope you’re okay and that the frozen blood mages you found don’t hurt you if you unfreeze them.  
I look forward to seeing you (and kissing you not in front of everyone) soon,  
Cullen  
Xx

Now that Dorian knew about the notes, he insisted on reading it too, commenting loudly about the fact that Cullen had put two kisses at the end of it. This could only, according to him, be a sign that Cullen was planning something ‘fun’ for Ethor when they got back home. In response to that, Ethor had just rolled his eyes. 

“If he has something fun planned, as you call it, I think I’ll say no,” he said. He liked Cullen a lot, but it was too early for what Dorian was describing. He was fairly sure that if Cullen wanted to do that now, it would be because he thought Ethor wanted it, not because of personal preference. “I think it’s too early at the moment.”

“You sweet, innocent little thing.” Dorian sighed, pressing a hand to his heart as if Ethor’s words had moved him. “You really are determined to take things slowly, aren’t you? Ah, well…it’s up to you.” He made his way out of Ethor’s tent, grumbling under his breath about sand in his hair on the way.

When he was gone, Ethor looked at the note again. He smiled, thinking about Cullen sitting at his desk as he wrote it. Probably hunched over a little, hopefully smiling, his light brown eyes glittering as he wrote something he knew would make the receiver laugh. Then he traced his fingers over the two kisses. Next time he sent a note to Cullen, he would send three.

This note too was carefully tucked into his pocket- there was nothing much to report on today, and he wouldn’t waste a messenger’s time delivering a sappy little note. Tomorrow, the situation would no doubt be different, and he would have plenty to report on and therefore another excuse to write to Cullen. Honestly, tomorrow evening couldn’t come fast enough.

-

Stumbling back into his tent, Ethor collapsed onto his bedroll, not even caring to check to shake sand out. Blackwall would chide him about scorpions after his run in the night before, but he didn’t care. He was exhausted and the amount of magic that had been humming around in that place was hurting his brain. He’d never seen so much blood magic before, let alone felt it.

He allowed himself five minutes to rest and calm down before struggling back up to a sitting position. Technically he could foist the duty of writing a report off onto someone else, but that would be unfair. Besides, he wanted to write to Cullen again, and this was his only excuse for doing so.

Cullen,  
As you saw/will soon see in the report, today was very interesting. Plans to fry you now include the use of blood magic, though I’m considering opting out of that because of the pounding headache it gave me with all those mages around using it.  
Dorian has a message for you, but I told him to tell you in person because then he gets to see your reaction.  
We’re leaving the cleanup operation to some of the other soldiers, I should be back within the next few days. I can’t wait to see you and I’m fine with kissing in private.  
With affection,  
Ethor   
Xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably my favourite chapter to write! Please remember that comments are appreciated, and I'd like to know if I have anything wrong because my lore knowledge is shaky.


	9. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethor returns to Skyhold and goes to see Cullen, but it doesn't go to plan.

Ethor had never been so relieved to see Skyhold in his life. He had a mild sunburn from the desert and there was sand everywhere. To finally sink into a hot bath and change his clothes would be a relief beyond all other reliefs, but first, there was someone that he wanted to see. Two brief kisses a full week ago had had him distracted all week- he needed more now, and without such a long break in between moments of affection.

Cullen’s office was empty when he arrived, but it was the evening, so he was probably off doing something or eating. He could wait, honestly. He’d missed Cullen a lot and he would gladly wait a few minutes to see him before he went off to collapse somewhere without grains of sand and scorpions and blood magic. Ethor looked around for a place to sit down, seeing nowhere but Cullen’s desk chair. Ah well, that would be more comfortable than anywhere else.

He slumped down in the chair, settling against the high back and letting out a long yawn. Hopefully Cullen would be back soon. Maker, he was so tired.

Before he knew it, he was being gently rocked awake by warm but slightly unfamiliar hands around his shoulders. “Ethor, wake up.” It was Cullen, then. Cullen telling him to wake up, why? Where was he? He slowly opened his eyes to see Cullen standing above him, a very cute fond look in his eyes.

“Wh- Oh, Maker, sorry, I…I didn’t mean to fall asleep in your chair.” He blushed, sheepish, groaning as he made an attempt to stand up. Cullen helped him, still smiling fondly. Ethor knew he must look quite the sight- a little sunburnt and sandy, and now disoriented and tired, too. “It’s good to see you again, Cullen.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he said, leaning down to kiss him. It was only quick, probably because his lips were dry and he looked so tired, but he didn’t mind. Cullen was here now, kissing him and just so gently putting his arms around him. He was so perfect. “I didn’t want to write it in the notes when we were so close to seeing each other, but I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. You look exhausted…if you aren’t feeling up to making the journey back to your own quarters, I wouldn’t be averse to letting you stay in my room tonight. Perhaps first change out of your clothes so that you don’t cover everything in sand…” Cullen chuckled. “You can borrow one of my shirts to sleep in.”

“I just really need a bath,” he said with a laugh. It was pretty tempting to stay here, but the way the rumours would spread, especially if anyone saw him wearing something of Cullen’s...it would be the end of any respect people had for either of them. Plus, Dorian would go nuts. He wouldn’t believe that they hadn’t been at it in bed together. “For the sake of appearances, I need to go to my quarters.”

“If you’re sure you feel up to walk back there.” Cullen reached up and stroked his hair, drawing his hand away in surprise as a small shower of sand rained from it. “Maker. You do need that bath…I’d offer to accompany you, but once again, I’m really not in the mood for scandal.” He leaned in again, giving Ethor a slow kiss that made him seriously consider accepting Cullen’s offer to stay the night.

“I’ll come to see you tomorrow when I feel more like a person,” he said once Cullen had backed away. “At the moment I’m too exhausted to appreciate you fully.” Cullen smiled at him and Ethor was pretty sure that his heart skipped doing something important because his throat sealed up. He was so beautiful.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cullen lifted a hand in a sort of wave, and Ethor just smiled before walking out of the door. He was perfect. And willing to kiss Ethor as much as he wanted. Ethor had to stop himself from skipping down the corridors despite his tiredness, any grumpiness residing from his journey now thoroughly wiped away by the giddy happiness that came from spending time with Cullen.

On his way to bed, in a move that he really should have predicted, he was accosted by Dorian. The mage was unavoidable, it seemed, and had a habit of popping up whenever Ethor happened to spend time with Cullen. It was like he had some sort of romance-radar, honestly, it was ridiculous. “You’ve been gone an hour, Inquisitor…dare I ask what held your attention for so long?”

“I fell asleep in Cullen’s office,” he explained, continuing to walk back to his quarters. Dorian could follow him if he liked, but he really wasn’t in the mood to talk. He was very tired and, unlike Dorian who had clearly just come out of a bath, he was still covered in sand. “Don’t even think anything happened.” 

“Hmm. He didn’t invite you to share his bed? How rude.” Dorian fell into step beside him, ambling along and looking more cheerful than most people had any right to be after the tiny amount of sleep they’d been getting recently. Ethor’s own good mood at least had a reasoning behind it. 

“He did, actually. I turned him down in favour of going to have a bath. If you don’t mind, may I have some time alone to go and do that? Isn’t there a certain Qunari in our ranks who’ll be expecting a visit from you tonight?”

“I imagine so, but I’m considering playing hard to get,” Dorian said with a wicked smile. “I don’t feel like going to him right now, mostly because I’m already in enough pain everywhere else, I don’t need it there too.” Ethor just made a face and looked away. He did not need to know about that and when Dorian mentioned it he imagined it and it was dreadful. 

“I’m sure that’s probably a wise idea. You could go and claim that you’re not in the mood for it tonight, or is Bull not really the sort of guy who cuddles?” Looking at him, Ethor couldn’t imagine that he was. But he had never asked, so he wouldn’t know. The people here were full of surprises.

“He’s one for cuddles when we’re done,” Dorian said with a faint shudder. “He may also hug me when he next sees me, so I think I want to rest up and give my ribs a chance before I have to go and see a healer again.” Dorian had been knocked over by a demon the evening before in the last battle before they made it out of the temple and he’d been told not to do anything too energetic for a few days. Dorian had winked at the healer.

“Fair enough.” Ethor slowed to a stop outside his quarters, turning to face Dorian. “I’d invite you in for a chat, but I need to bathe. As much as you’d no doubt love to witness that, I’d rather do it alone. You go back to avoiding the Iron Bull.” He patted Dorian on the arm as a goodbye gesture, and the other mage looked down and flicked a grain of sand off his elbow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Try not to smell of horse for the Commander!” Dorian smiled and waved his usual flippant wave before starting down the stairs, two at a time.

-

If he’d been happy to see Cullen yesterday, Ethor was even more excited to see him after he’d bathed and had a proper night of sleep in a bed that wasn’t a tent that probably had six snakes of varying deadliness hidden in it somewhere. Yesterday was little more than an exhausted haze, especially after his unplanned nap. Of course, he couldn’t go and see Cullen immediately. They both had plenty of things to occupy their mornings, and the one time they passed in a corridor Cullen was carrying a very large stack of papers and couldn’t reasonably be expected to stop. It wasn’t until lunchtime that Ethor was free, and he wasted no time in heading down to Cullen’s quarters.

He was alone, for once, with no advisors demanding every moment of his attention, so Ethor was pleasantly surprised by being greeted with a kiss. “Good afternoon,” Cullen said once he’d pulled away. “Sorry about earlier, but those papers were precarious enough and I’d already dropped three reports on my way.”

“I hope you managed to pick them up.” Ethor reached out to link his fingers with Cullen’s, squeezing his hand slightly. “How have you been whilst I’ve been gone? I trust that the Inquisition survived without me.” He led Cullen towards the window, leaning on the sill and gazing out at the view. It was a very nice view, even if it was also quite a cold one.

“Barely,” he said with a smile. “You have no idea how much people wanted to see those notes we sent each other. Even Leliana was unable to hide her curiosity, she flat out asked to see the last one.” Ethor laughed. Sometimes he wondered if the reason Leliana was a spy was just because she liked to gossip.

“It’s not as if they were particularly scandalous notes. I could have said far more ‘interesting’ things about you. I could have taken a leaf out of Dorian’s book and said something positively lewd in those notes. He was certainly encouraging me to do so. But I refrained, as you’ll have noticed. That sort of thing is...not my style.”

“I think everyone who saw was quite disappointed, though Cassandra was surprised I would joke about magic,” he admitted. Ethor had been a bit surprised that Cullen joked about it really. They hadn’t been ‘an item’ very long and they hadn’t had a discussion about it or their differences or how they were going to overcome those. He knew that magic would be the one thing they really disagreed about, so he was very surprised when Cullen joked about it in their letters. He hoped he had been okay with him continuing it, and now he thought about it, maybe mentioning blood magic had been a bad idea.

“I’ll admit that threw me a bit, too. I promise I’m not actually going to fry you at any point, and blood magic absolutely would not be involved even if I was planning on it.” Ethor smiled. “You’re perfectly safe around me, Cullen.” He leaned back against him, head resting against Cullen’s shoulder. Ethor wasn’t short by any means, but Cullen was tall.

“I know,” he said. “I trust you, however ill-advised many people tell me it is to trust a mage from a Circle that rebelled.” Ethor opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t remember the initial rebellion all that well. He was fairly sure he saw the Chantry explode in Kirkwall, but maybe he’d imagined it. It had been a time of chaos.

He settled for just shrugging instead, turning his head to smile up at Cullen. “Do you have much more work to do today? I can probably spare an hour or two, but after that I’ll be busy until tonight. It feels like we haven’t spent nearly as much time together as we should, but I suppose that’s a consequence of the whole...Inquisition thing, really.”

“I’m sure we can eat lunch together, and if you’re not too busy we could spend time together this evening?” Cullen suggested, bringing his hands up to Ethor’s shoulders and pulling him slightly closer. He was so tall that he made Ethor feel short, especially as he felt Cullen’s chin brush the top of his head.

“Mm…what could we do this evening?” Ethor was almost a little nervous about asking, hopeful that Cullen wouldn’t ask for anything that he wasn’t ready for yet. “The sunset must be beautiful from your room, I imagine. Or, if there’s anywhere else you’d rather be, I’m sure I wouldn’t mind that either.”

“I think it would be better from your room,” Cullen said. “You have that balcony, yes? And it looks out over the mountain range.” Watching the sunset. It was such a simple idea, nice and calm and it hopefully didn’t involve awkward conversations about sex.

“You can come up to my rooms if you like, but if you don’t leave before dark, people will start to talk,” he said with a laugh. “Let’s go and get lunch now, or we’ll run out of time.”

“I’d love to,” Cullen said, moving round to take his left hand. His hand was slightly colder than Ethor’s, but it was sort of nice. Soothing. “Lead the way, oh glorious leader.”

Ethor gladly did so, nudging Cullen with his elbow as a response to the ‘glorious leader’ comment. He was just a man, honestly, all of these titles made him a little uncomfortable. He would much prefer just to be addressed by his own name, but that hadn’t been an option for a long time now. But he sort of didn’t mind when Cullen did it, because with Cullen it was a joke, and he knew he wasn’t at risk of being worshipped by him. Cullen was safe, and he was glad it was that way.


	10. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Ethor, going forwards.

As the days and weeks went by, Ethor found himself spending more time with Cullen. On some days, he would take his work up to Cullen’s office, or he would get up early to come and watch Cullen shout at the recruits in training. Three weeks after they’d first kissed, Ethor decided he didn’t give a damn about the rumours and accepted an offer from Cullen to stay the night. There were plenty of rumours afterwards, but it was easy now to shrug them all off with a smile.

They never did anything like that, and he liked it that way. Cullen never really asked him if he wanted to and it was nice. When they were together, alone, all the tension he felt because of his responsibilities seemed to fall away and he could smile genuinely. When they talked, and they often talked for hours on end, he didn’t feel like he had to tread carefully around certain subjects, because he knew Cullen would never hold it against him if he got something wrong.

When he wasn’t with Cullen, he usually found himself with Dorian instead. The other mage had eased up on his teasing a little, especially now that Ethor had plenty to tease him back with. The Iron Bull was hardly discreet about the many things he did with Dorian, and all it took to acquire a little more teasing material was a quick chat with him. There were far more interesting things going on with the pair of them, in fact it occasionally got interesting enough that Ethor had to tell Dorian that he should get Bull to stop before he actually physically injured him to the extent he had to go and see a healer. Dorian said he’d stop him and said that Bull just wasn’t used to someone of a ‘more sophisticated’ stature.

Other than that they continually had to fight and kill people whose deaths could have been avoided (Cullen was particularly upset about the Red Templars and Ethor understood why; the thought of his people under Corypheus was terrifying), life was sort of good. Better than it had been for a while, at least. It was nice, having someone to spend his free time with, someone to go to when the stress of leading the Inquisition got too much. 

Two months after they’d first kissed- an anniversary of sorts, Ethor supposed, although he was still unsure about labelling it as such- he found himself on the balcony outside his room at sunset, playing chess with Cullen. It was a lot more relaxed than playing chess with Dorian- no cheating, no dramatics, just a game and some good company. Sometimes he won, sometimes Cullen won.

“Have you been with anyone before?” He asked. They’d been talking about their lives before the Inquisition, though they both skirted around topics after the Blight. Ethor knew Cullen wasn’t comfortable with talking about it.

“Never, actually,” he said, “though there was a woman I was interested in once. I think Leliana knows her better than I do by now, and it was a long time ago. She was the closest I ever got to anyone before you, at least in that way. And we had only spoken a handful of times.” Ethor got the distinct impression she was a mage. Maybe Leliana’s elusive lover.  
“Ah. I can’t imagine the Chantry gave you many opportunities for serious relationships…I’m the same, I’ve never really been with anyone else. I had a crush on a Templar when I was about fourteen, and then I heard him discussing how all mages are scum and should be killed, and that crush faded pretty quickly.” Ethor shrugged. “As first relationships go, this is a good one.”

“I see,” he said. “I used to say things like that, I hope you know that...I like to think I’m different now, better than petty insults and prejudice. I know we have different opinions on magic, I suppose it’s just natural considering, but I hope we can work past it. I want to work past it for you.”

Ethor smiled and made another move. He wasn’t really thinking ahead in the game anymore, but he didn’t mind. He just wanted to spend time with Cullen, and he didn’t mind if that meant he lost. “I want to as well. I want to be better than the arbitrary divisions between us.” He wanted to be more than an example of why mages and Templars can never get along.

“I think we already are. I see you as a lot more than just a mage- honestly, your ability to use magic ranks quite low on the list of things that I care about involving you. Certainly, it doesn’t rank as high as your kindness, your devotion to this cause, your ability to treat everyone with respect…you’re a good person, not just a good mage.” Cullen studied the chess board, moving one of his knights to take a pawn. “Perhaps not quite as good as me at chess.” 

“I win sometimes!” He protested. He was a tiny bit annoyed that Cullen considered that he gave a better example to all people than he did mages, but he would let something like that slide. Cullen probably didn’t know all the politics behind being a mage, seeing as he wasn’t one.

“I have won sixteen times, we’ve been interrupted six times and you’ve won eight times,” Cullen said with a grin. Smug arsehole. He’d never thought that Cullen would have it in him to be smug about something as simple and petty as chess, but he could be as bad as Dorian when it came to bragging. He just did it a lot more subtly. 

“I’ll make it nine times today,” he promised. “I’ll catch up with you soon enough.”

“Where did you learn to play?” He asked. “I learned from my siblings and practised so I could beat my sister, but it sounds like you weren’t like that with your brothers.”

“Noble family,” he explained with a sigh. “My mother taught me how, but no one ever had the time or patience to practise with me. Everyone played it at the Circle, though, because the Templars saw it as harmless.”

“I imagine you got a lot of practise, then.” Cullen moved another one of his pieces, and grinned. “Check.” 

Ethor let out a soft noise of frustration, quickly moving himself out of check and prodding Cullen with his foot under the table. “I got an awful lot of practise. I really don’t know how you keep on beating me…”

“Check,” he said again with a smile after moving his piece, prodding him back. “Maybe you’re just not suited to the game. Some people just have a mind for it. Leliana does, but she has no practise. Cassandra is hopeless, she’s played it with me once and refused to ever again.”

“Maybe I could practise on them,” he suggested. Playing with Dorian was fun, but his constant cheating and bragging started to grate because he wasn’t really that good at it. Playing with Leliana or Cassandra might be terrifying, though. They both scared the shit out of him frequently. Ethor moved another one of his pieces to escape the check, smiling across at Cullen.

“Perhaps you could. I don’t know if they’d let you, but it would be worth a shot. One condition- you aren’t allowed to flirt with them like you flirt with me during chess.” Cullen was just teasing, his smile catching the last rays of the sun as it sank below the horizon.

“I would never,” he said, hoping that his voice had a note of sincerity. “You’re beautiful and I could never wish for anything more.” He couldn’t help but say it then, with the sun coming in and with it catching Cullen’s eyes and lighting them up so they looked gold rather than brown. His hair was golden too, paler but just as beautiful, and if it didn’t take standing up and leaning over the chessboard, he would run his hands through it right then.

“You keep calling me that. Beautiful.” Cullen smiled a little bashfully, glancing down at the floor. “No one’s called me that before. Handsome, yes, although I still very much doubt that. Beautiful…that’s a word I’ve rarely heard used to describe men, and certainly never me.”

“You are beautiful,” he said. “Everything about you. You’re handsome, too, but I don’t believe in the two being mutually exclusive.” He wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from, but he definitely believed it. “It isn’t just appearance that makes beauty, it’s your nature too. How cheerful you are, how caring.” The words were on the tip of his tongue and everything felt warm inside but still he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Ethor, I-” Cullen was blushing again, looking thoroughly embarrassed by all of the praise being showered on him. It was adorable, honestly. “I’ve never known someone that I admire as much as you. You’re calling me caring and beautiful and words like that, but in truth, I’ve never met someone who embodies all of those characteristics as well as you do. You make living with this lyrium withdrawal feel easier just by being around…no one else can do that.”

“Cullen, I-I love you,” he said. He’d known for days, he knew he had to say it at some point. He’d never felt anything so strongly before yet he knew what it was. He loved him. He loved Cullen, despite everything he thought would come between them. They’d managed to get past their differences, past the mutual hatred shared between mages and Templars, and they could get past anything else that might happen in the future. Ethor knew it. Now all he had to do was pray that Cullen felt the same.

He needn’t have worried. Cullen stood up, leaning over the chessboard to kiss him, long and slow and full of happiness. The chess board got a little jostled in the middle of things, but neither of them cared. When they finally pulled away, Cullen rested his forehead against Ethor’s, a little out of breath from the kiss. He looked perfect. “Ethor…I love you too. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand it's done :) I really enjoyed writing this and I'm sort of sad it's over. I do have something else in the works for these cuties but I'm mostly working on my modern au stuff at the moment. Don't forget to leave a comment if you liked it, it really really honestly helps so much in motivating writers if you leave feedback.


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